Page 108 of Rogue Mission
“Or maybe,” she whispers roughly, rising on her toes until her lips brush mine, “maybe it’s the only sane thing in a world gone mad.”
The game is over.
My lie to myself that I can hold back is torched.
A dam breaks—the raging flood of desire cresting, pushing me toward her.
She gasps when I crush my mouth to hers, tasting her certainty. Feeling the way she welcomes me, her moan vibrating through us both.
At last my hands take what they’ve been dying for.
Dragging her against me, gripping hard, I crush us together until there’s no space between us.
“You’re sure?” I rasp against her lips, fire scoring through me.
Her hands circle my neck, linking us together. “Do I seem uncertain?”
Fuck. No.
“You’re in trouble.”
“As long as you’re delivering the punishment.”
I lift her, and she wraps her legs around me, that T-shirt riding up. The towel falls away as I turn to crush her against the door.
“Can’t be gentle,” I rasp, burying my face in her hair.
“Don’t. I want you like you are. Take me there, Justice. To the edge. Thehardedge where this all disappears.”
I groan, shaking, my hands biting into her soft curves, grinding her against me. “I need to be inside you. Now.”
When she reaches between us, her cool fingers gripping me, I suck in a harsh breath.
“Let me help you. I’m wet, ready.”
“Fuck, baby.” I shudder as I push forward, her guiding me. Her back bangs the door, shaking it, as I pass the halfway point.
“Oh god,” she moans against my throat.
Christ, am I hurting her? She’s so small. So fucking tight.
Stopping the forward drive, I pant, “Does it… hurt?”
“Good hurt.” Her fingers dig into my scalp. “Take me. Hard.”
My body overrides my brain. With an animalistic roar, I drive home.
Home.
That’s what she is.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Justice is feral tonight. Pure, blistering need makes him a wild animal.
I’m so here for it.
Every thrust slams my back into the door, rattling it in its frame like it might break. His breath is hot in my ear, his hands digging into my behind, dragging me closer, deeper.
